We watched the dog episode the other night (teach an old dog new tricks, beat the guard dog, beat the bloodhound, etc.). Here’s what Liz took away from it: “Dogs like smelling dog pee. And foods. And Mif Busters.” When Grant built the robot cat and did his evil laugh, Liz said, “That’s not really alive! It’s a robot. Grant always builds a robot because it’s his job. HAHAHAHAHA the dog just bited that robot!”

Speaking of Grant, we both think he’s pretty cute. Sometimes when he’s on the screen, Liz will pretend to hug him. One time, she pretended to take him out of the screen. She led Pretend Grant up to me. “Mom, this is Grant!” She took a step back. “That’s a introduce,” she whispered, “now you have to shake his hand.”

So, I shook hands with Pretend Grant, said I was a big fan, and asked if I could show him around town. (note: I am not this slick with real-life attractive men) Of course, since we were pretending, he said yes, so I asked for his phone number. I messed around with my phone, and thought we were done.

Nope. “Ring ring! Mom, Grant is calling you!” While I pretended to talk on the phone, Liz grabbed a pen and an envelope and wrote numbers on it. “Mom! It’s his address so you could pick him up.” She shoved it in to my hand. “But first you have to watch more Mif Busters! Can we watch the ninjas one?”

The ninja episode has Adam getting his butt kicked, Adam attempting to walk on water, catching an arrow, and catching a sword. The build team’s myth, catching a sword, is heavy on Grant being awesome. He builds a robot (which Liz just loves), slams his hands together with the most force out of the build team, and swings a sword faster than either Kari or Tory. So it’s a great episode.

At the very end, Jamie and Adam mix up a non-newtonian fluid, a mix of cornstarch and water thats apparent viscosity increases when subjected to stress. This means you can walk on it. Liz was enthralled by this stuff. She was jumping up and down, cheering, yelling, laughing…she pointed at the TV and yelled, “I WANT THAT!” She stepped closer so her finger was on the screen, on the fluid, and said, “I want a non-newtonian fluid for my five birthday!”

When I tried to get her in the bath, she threw a tantrum: “I didn’t even get to see a explosion!” Good thing we have the DVDs for another week, huh?

This week was Christmas. It was also a huge winter storm, which led to a few gems.

~

I decided to keep Liz home from daycare on Thursday, since there’s no way my little front wheel drive Kia Rio was going anywhere. That plan worked well…until about noon, when I realized that I had no coffee and my brain was trying to pound its way out of my head and go to Starbucks. I turned on the news to check road conditions, decided to try to dig out and acquire coffee, and got us dressed.

It took nearly an hour of digging to get the car out of the on-street parking space. I was NOT happy. I hate snow. I hate cold. Liz had a blast, though. She was throwing armloads of snow, making snow angels, wiping my car with the snowbrush, and telling me to be happy because the snow is so pretty.

Finally, after three attempts and all that digging, we got out! We were so happy! Liz was so proud of our good teamwork! But what really got me was her in-depth understanding of TV news. After we’d gotten done congratulating ourselves, Liz asked, “How do we call the news and make a news report that we had trouble getting our car out? I bet they need to put that on TV.”

~

We went to my aunt’s house to put up her Christmas decorations. Aunt doesn’t decorate, since she has arthritis…but she loves having a decorated house, so we help her out.

Liz loves decorating. She actually volunteered to skip dessert so she could continue decorating Aunt’s house (an idea which Aunt vetoed, because she had run out of decorations). Aunt then told her that some people decorate for a living. Once I told her that the best and most famous decorators end up on TV, she was sold. “MOM! I could decorate my room! And then I could decorate the downstairs at the townhouse, and decorate the back yard so it’s a garden, and I could even decorate the bafroom!”

~

It was the day before Christmas Eve. Liz and I were driving across town. I asked her, “What do you think Mrs. Claus is doing right now?”

She said, “I think she’s making dinner for Santa. And all the elfs. And maybe she has to go to the store, too, so she could get reindeer biscuits for the reindeers. They’re like dog biscuits, only shaped like reindeers, and they taste like grass.”

“Of course. Everyone needs food. What do you think Mrs. Claus will do tomorrow, when Santa’s off delivering presents?” I asked.

“Well, maybe she will make herself some coffee or some hot chocolate. And then she’ll sit back and relax, and…she could play video games! I think she’ll play video games until the night, and then she’ll go to bed.”

~

She has also decided that Santa goes on vacation after Christmas, “…and so do the elfs, but they go on a different vacation. And Mrs. Claus goes on a big vacation, too. The reindeers just stay at the North Pole and eat grass and relax, because reindeers don’t go on vacations.”

Liz asks me questions all the time, because she’s four. I ask her questions, too, under the pretense of stimulating her mind and increasing her vocabulary. Really, I’m just mining for funny stuff. So here are some questions and answers.

~

Liz: What do pigs eat when they’re not at a farm or at someone’s home?

Liz was all tired and grumpy this morning because (as she whined to Dad) “my room is cold, and my blankets are warm!” We finally got ready and I was loading up my backpack. Peach walked out of my room, then I walked out with my backpack open, and of course this was the obvious conclusion:
Liz: :laughing hysterically: DID YOU TRY TO PUT PEACH IN YOUR BACKPACK?! :more laughing:
me: Um… no. :halfheartedly chased Peach around with my backpack, for the lulz:
Liz: :has kittens:
Liz, after calming down: Maybe if you had a fatter backpack.
me: Huh?
Liz: Well, if you had a more fatter backpack, you could put Bakemono in it!
me: …sure. :LOL!:

When Liz was about two years old, we went to a Christmas party. This party was at a house way up in the mountains, on a dirt road that had been covered in snow for weeks. I had a car with 4WD, so the drive up there was no problem…but then it was time to go home.

As soon as I nosed the car on to the road, I slid. I slammed on the brakes. The anti-lock did what it was supposed to do, but the ice was solid, so the brakes were making a razz noise at me while I was cussing up a pollution. We hit a patch of snow. I was able to sink my tires in and get enough traction to push us forward as opposed to sideways, but that was about all. I started sliding again. I slammed on the brakes again, got razzed again, and tested the limits of my colorful vocabulary again.

I was able to pull out of the second slide and realign my car with the road. By then, I was dropping F-bombs left and right.

From the back seat, two year old Liz piped up, “Don’t say fuck, Mom! Be brave! Be HAPPY!”